Next day we left all this; and continued our march. About a month
later, however, we encountered McMillan himself in Nairobi. I was
just out from a very hard trip to the coast-Billy not with
me-and wanted nothing so much as a few days' rest. McMillan's
cordiality was not to be denied, however, so the very next day
found us tucking ourselves into a buckboard behind four white
Abyssinian mules. McMillan, some Somalis and Captain Duirs came
along in another similar rig. Our driver was a Hottentot
half-caste from South Africa. He had a flat face, a yellow skin,
a quiet manner, and a competent hand. His name was Michael. At
his feet crouched a small Kikuyu savage, in blanket ear ornaments
and all the fixings, armed with a long lashed whip and raucous
voice. At any given moment he was likely to hop out over the
moving wheel, run forward, bat the off leading mule, and hop back
again, all with the most extraordinary agility. He likewise
hurled what sounded like very opprobrious epithets at such
natives as did not get out the way quickly enough to suit him.
The expression of his face, which was that of a person steeped in
woe, never changed.

We rattled out of Nairobi at a great pace, and swung into the
Fort Hall Road. This famous thoroughfare, one of the three or
four made roads in all East Africa, is about sixty miles long. It
is a strategic necessity but is used by thousands of natives on
their way to see the sights of the great metropolis. As during
the season there is no water for much of the distance, a great
many pay for their curiosity with their lives. The road skirts
the base of the hills, winding in and out of shallow canyons and
about the edges of rounded hills. To the right one can see far
out across the Athi Plains.

We met an almost unbroken succession of people. There were long
pack trains of women, quite cheerful, bent over under the weight
of firewood or vegetables, many with babies tucked away in the
folds of their garments; mincing dandified warriors with
poodle-dog hair, skewers in their ears, their jewelery brought to
a high polish a fatuous expression of self-satisfaction on their
faces, carrying each a section of sugarcane which they now used
as a staff but would later devour for lunch; bearers, under
convoy of straight soldierly red-sashed Sudanese, transporting
Government goods; wild-eyed staring shenzis from the forest, with
matted hair and goatskin garments, looking ready to bolt aside at
the slightest alarm; coveys of marvellous and giggling damsels,
their fine-grained skin anointed and shining with red oil, strung
with beads and shells, very coquettish and sure of their feminine
charm; naked small boys marching solemnly like their elders;
camel trains from far-off Abyssinia or Somaliland under convoy of
white-clad turbaned grave men of beautiful features; donkey
safaris in charge of dirty degenerate looking East Indians
carrying trade goods to some distant post-all these and many
more, going one way or the other, drew one side, at the sight of
our white faces, to let us pass.

About two o'clock we suddenly turned off from the road,
apparently quite at random, down the long grassy interminable
incline that dipped slowly down and slowly up again over great
distance to form the Athi Plains. Along the road, with its
endless swarm of humanity, we had seen no game, but after a half
mile it began to appear. We encountered herds of zebra, kongoni,
wildebeeste, and "Tommies" standing about or grazing, sometimes
almost within range from the moving buckboard. After a time we
made out the trees and water tower of Juja ahead; and by four
o'clock had turned into the avenue of trees. Our approach had
been seen. Tea was ready, and a great and hospitable table of
bottles, ice, and siphons.

The next morning we inspected the stables, built of stone in a
hollow square, like a fort, with box stalls opening directly into
the courtyard and screened carefully against the deadly flies.
The horses, beautiful creatures, were led forth each by his proud
and anxious syce. We tried them all, and selected our mounts for
the time of our stay. The syces were small black men, lean and
well formed, accustomed to running afoot wherever their charges
went, at walk, lope or gallop. Thus in a day they covered
incredible distances over all sorts of country; but were always
at hand to seize the bridle reins when the master wished to
dismount. Like the rickshaw runners in Nairobi, they wore their
hair clipped close around their bullet heads and seemed to have
developed into a small compact hard type of their own. They ate
and slept with their horses.

Just outside the courtyard of the stables a little barred window
had been cut through. Near this were congregated a number of
Kikuyu savages wrapped in their blankets, receiving each in turn
a portion of cracked corn from a dusty white man behind the bars.
They were a solemn, unsmiling, strange type of savage, and they
performed all the manual work within the enclosure, squatting on
their heels and pulling methodically but slowly at the weeds,
digging with their pangas, carrying loads: to and fro, or
solemnly pushing a lawn mower, blankets wrapped shamelessly about
their necks. They were harried about by a red-faced beefy English
gardener with a marvellous vocabulary of several native languages
and a short hippo-hide whip. He talked himself absolutely purple
in the face without, as far as my observation went, penetrating
an inch below the surface. The Kikuyus went right on doing what
they were already doing in exactly the same manner. Probably the
purple Englishman was satisfied with that, but I am sure apoplexy
of either the heat or thundering variety has him by now.

Before the store building squatted another group of savages.
Perhaps in time one of the lot expected to buy something; or
possibly they just sat. Nobody but a storekeeper would ever have
time to find out. Such is the native way. The storekeeper in this
case was named John. Besides being storekeeper, he had charge of
the issuing of all the house supplies, and those for the white
men's mess; he must do all the worrying about the upper class
natives; he must occasionally kill a buck for the meat supply;
and he must be prepared to take out any stray tenderfeet that
happen along during McMillan's absence, and persuade them that
they are mighty hunters. His domain was a fascinating place, for
it contained everything from pianola parts to patent washstands.
The next best equipped place of the kind I know of is the
property room of a moving picture company.

We went to mail a letter, and found the postmaster to be a
gentle-voiced, polite little Hindu, who greeted us smilingly, and
attempted to conceal a work of art. We insisted; whereupon he
deprecatingly drew forth a copy of a newspaper cartoon having to
do with Colonel Roosevelt's visit. It was copied with
mathematical exactness, and highly coloured in a manner to throw
into profound melancholy the chauffeur of a coloured supplement
press. We admired and praised; whereupon, still shyly, he
produced more, and yet again more copies of the same cartoon.
When we left, he was reseating himself to the painstaking
valueless labour with which he filled his days. Three times a
week such mail as Juja gets comes in via native runner. We saw
the latter, a splendid figure, almost naked, loping easily, his
little bundle held before him.

Down past the office and dispensary we strolled, by the
comfortable, airy, white man's clubhouse. The headman of the
native population passed us with a dignified salute; a fine
upstanding deep-chested man, with a lofty air of fierce pride. He
and his handful of soldiers alone of the natives, except the
Somalis and syces, dwelt within the compound in a group of huts
near the gate. There when off duty they might be seen polishing
their arms, or chatting with their women. The latter were ladies
of leisure, with wonderful chignons, much jewelery, and
patterned Mericani wrapped gracefully about their pretty figures.

By the time we had seen all these things it was noon. We ate
lunch. The various members of the party decided to do various
things. I elected to go out with McMillan while he killed a
wildebeeste, and I am very glad I did. It was a most astonishing
performance.

You must imagine us driving out the gate in a buckboard behind
four small but lively white Abyssinian mules. In the front seat
were Michael, the Hottentot driver, and McMillan's Somali
gunbearer. In the rear seat were McMillan and myself, while a
small black syce perched precariously behind. Our rifles rested
in a sling before us. So we jogged out on the road to Long Juju,
examining with a critical eye the herds of game to right and left
of us. The latter examined us, apparently, with an eye as
critical. Finally, in a herd of zebra, we espied a lone
wildebeeste.

The wildebeeste is the Jekyll and Hyde of the animal kingdom. His
usual and familiar habit is that of a heavy, sluggish animal,
like our vanished bison. He stands solid and inert, his head
down; he plods slowly forward in single file, his horns swinging,
each foot planted deliberately. In short, he is the
personification of dignity, solid respectability, gravity of
demeanour. But then all of a sudden, at any small interruption,
he becomes the giddiest of created beings. Up goes his head and
tail, he buck jumps, cavorts, gambols, kicks up his heels, bounds
stiff-legged, and generally performs like an irresponsible
infant. To see a whole herd at once of these grave and reverend
seigneurs suddenly blow up into such light-headed capers goes far
to destroy one's faith in the stability of institutions.

Also the wildebeeste is not misnamed. He is a conservative, and
he sees no particular reason for allowing his curiosity to
interfere with his preconceived beliefs. The latter are
distrustful. Therefore he and his females and his young-I should
say small-depart when one is yet far away. I say small, because
I do not believe that any wildebeeste is ever young. They do not
resemble calves, but are exact replicas of the big ones, just as
Niobe's daughters are in nothing childlike, but merely smaller
women.

When we caught sight of this lone wildebeeste among the zebra, I
naturally expected that we would pull up the buckboard, descend,
and approach to within some sort of long range. Then we would
open fire. Barring luck, the wildebeeste would thereupon depart
"wilder and beestier than ever," as John McCutcheon has it. Not at
all! Michael, the Hottentot, turned the buckboard off the road,
headed toward the distant quarry, and charged at full speed! Over
stones we went that sent us feet into the air, down and out of
shallow gullies that seemed as though they would jerk the pole
from the vehicle with a grand rattlety-bang, every one hanging on
for his life. I was entirely occupied with the state of my spinal
column and the retention of my teeth, but McMillan must have been
keeping his eye on the game. One peculiarity of the wildebeeste
is that he cannot see behind him, and another is that he is
curious. It would not require a very large bump of curiosity,
however, to cause any animal to wonder what all the row was
about. There could be no doubt that this animal would sooner or
later stop for an instant to look for the purpose of seeing what
was up in jungleland; and just before doing so he would, for a
few steps, slow down from a gallop to a trot. McMillan was
watching for this symptom.

Instantly Michael threw his weight into the right rein and
against the brake. We swerved so violently to the right and
stopped so suddenly that I nearly landed on the broad prairies.
The manoeuvre fetched us up broadside. The small black syce-and
heaven knows how he had managed to hang on-darted to the heads
of the leading mules. At the same moment the wildebeeste turned,
and stopped; but even before he had swung his head, McMillan had
fired. It was extraordinarily good, quick work, the way he picked
up the long range from the spurts of dust where the bullets hit.
At the third or fourth shots he landed one. Immediately the beast
was off again at a tearing run pursued by a rapid fusillade from
the remaining shots. Then with a violent jerk and a wild yell we
were off again.

This time, since the animal was wounded, he made for rougher
country. And everywhere that wildebeeste went we too were sure to
go. We hit or shaved boulders that ought to have smashed a wheel,
we tore through thick brush regardless. Twice we charged
unhesitatingly over apparent precipices. I do not know the name
of the manufacturer of the buckboard. If I did, I should
certainly recommend it here. Twice more we swerved to our
broadside and cut loose the port batteries. Once more McMillan
hit. Then, on the fourth "run," we gained perceptibly. The beast
was weakening. When he came to a stumbling halt we were not over
a hundred yards from him, and McMillan easily brought him down.
We had chased him four or five miles, and McMillan had fired
nineteen shots, of which two had hit. The rifle practice
throughout had been remarkably good, and a treat to watch.
Personally, besides the fun of attending the show, I got a mighty
good afternoon's exercise.

We loaded the game aboard and jogged slowly back to the house,
for the mules were pretty tired. We found a neighbour, Mr.
Heatley of Kamiti Ranch who had "dropped down" twelve miles to
see us. On account of a theft McMillan now had all the Somalis
assembled for interrogation on the side verandas. The
interrogation did not amount to much, but while it was going on
the Sudanese headman and his askaris were quietly searching the
boys' quarters. After a time they appeared. The suspected men had
concealed nothing, but the searchers brought with them three of
McMillan's shirts which they had found among the effects of
another, and entirely unsuspected, boy named Abadie.

Abadie hesitated. Then he evidently reflected that there is
slight use in having a deity unless one makes use of him.

"Bwana," said he with an engaging air of belief and candour, "God
must have put them there!"

That evening we planned a "general day" for the morrow. We took
boys and buckboards and saddle-horses, beaters, shotguns, rifles,
and revolvers, and we sallied forth for a grand and joyous time.
The day from a sporting standpoint was entirely successful, the
bag consisting of two waterbuck, a zebra, a big wart-hog, six
hares, and six grouse. Personally I was a little hazy and
uncertain. By evening the fever had me, and though I stayed at
Juja for six days longer, it was as a patient to McMillan's
unfailing kindness rather than as a participant in the life of
the farm.